


Rectification

by thelastzebra



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastzebra/pseuds/thelastzebra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Muzzled!Loki porn.</p><p>Contains noncon/heavy dubcon, incest, rough sex, blood, and angst. You have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rectification

My main instrument of destruction and control is being held down. It's restrained by an unyielding metal plate that intrudes my mouth, an uninvited lover. To ensure my complete wordlessness, and add insult to injury, my lips are sealed by a dark steel muzzle, which forces me to breathe through my nose. This serves to prevent me from making any sound, except for maybe a pitiful letter M, which I won't resort to. 

My words have been the first and foremost thing in my life, the key that has let me in closed vaults and out of prisons. The clothes I've worn and the faces I have had. My sword. My armour.

And now I cannot speak. It feels as if I own nothing in the world.

People are looking, curious. These mortals. Worms of the earth that I underestimated once and will never underestimate again. They look at me, some smiling and some serious. All silently gloating, no doubt. As if they have beaten me, now. As if they could ever aspire to best me. As if their abilities, ever so slightly above their tiny human peers, were anything compared to mine.

And among the mortals stands Thor, who so loves them. He is holding the container of the Tesseract.

Thor has a solemn face and a proud posture. He approaches me, looks me in the eye just shortly, and gives the smallest nod, like his plan is also my plan. He lifts the container slightly, so that I can reach it. My wrists are bound with steel and magic, like my mouth, and a chain prevents me from keeping my hands more than two feet apart.

"We're going home," he says. Compliant, I grasp the other end of the container that holds the glowing Tesseract.

We go. In less than a heartbeat, I can see the humans diminishing below me. Then they are gone, small, to oblivion where they belong. Space is deep and black and soundless.

It does not sadden me to have left that insignificant world. Oh, I went there at the wrong time and with the wrong weapons, and my transportation away from there is proof of my failure. But I have a wider view. I will destroy the Earth, and that day will be sweet. Not in a thousand years, and not while Thor is still watching. But he thinks I will forget, and I won't. And the day will come when I'm going back.

Then, shortly, countless distances away, we are in Asgard. I know the scent, the temperature, the invisible abrasions that millennia of magic have left on the walls. The only things I can see are Thor's face in the light of the Tesseract, the faint shadows of stone walls in the dark, and a narrow column of dim light creeping from the crack of a door across the floor. I hear Thor's breathing, and further away, faint dripping water and a low creaking sound. But I am in Asgard, I know that like I know my own hands.

I let go of the Tesseract. He holds the glowing container in both hands and takes a few steps past me, towards the door. I do not move. I observe.

In a moment, I let my armour disappear and change to simpler blacks. Trousers, a linen tunic, and a simple gold band on my neck. No protection, no grandeur. Let them think I am meek.

Thor stops and takes a breath. "We are home, brother!" I can hear a forced smile in his voice.

Home? Wrong. Brother? Wrong. But I would not say so now, even if I could.

He stands beside me, and I look ahead, my eyes catching only the walls out in the dimness. But I can see him as clearly as if he were standing in front of me in full daylight. I can hear him. I can feel him.

"I will leave you here." He falls silent for a moment, and I wait. "Mother and father want to see you--," wrong, and wrong, and wrong, "--and we will--" there is a slight crack in his voice, and he does not finish his sentence.

Still, he thinks me the fool. How long will he try to set that same trap? I will not trust him if he just makes believe he loves me. I will not turn into the obedient, peaceful, lesser brother, no matter how many times he calls me kin to himself and his.

He continues, his voice clear again, "--we will resolve these matters for good."

Oh we will. But not today, and not here.

I will not forgive. But they will. It's their nature. They'll trust again. I won't.

He retreats a few steps so that he's directly in front of me again. Bowing slowly, he sets the Tesseract on the floor beside him.

And then, in the near darkness, there is a breath on my neck and strong, insistent hands around my waist and so much strength, so much weight against me. He holds me close, my blood brother, and his closeness is more than I can stand. My brother, my love, he is so warm, and he warms me to my core. Oh my heart, one I once thought did not exist or was frozen forever, now it melts and weeps like the last snow in the spring.

And all of the warm meltwater inevitably flows down, lower, through my stomach and my viscera and oh, my brother, my god, I am hard. I am hard.

"Brother", he mutters. Yes, brother. It's just like before, I almost cannot stand it. Come closer, closer.

"We will have you safe here. We won't have you go astray. Never again." His voice is calm. He must feel my cock against him, he must know, but his breathing is even and his grip of me is unchanging. Don't let go, brother, or I might fall.

He lets go. Thor leaves my side, picks up the Tesseract, I breathe deeply in and then out through my nose, and before I have exhaled fully, the door clicks and creaks and clicks shut again. I am alone, and it is dark. I am mute, with unfriendly metal filling my mouth, and I will have revenge.

I stare at the floor, with no need to sit down or to make myself more comfortable. I hear faint clattering from the outside, and then the world is all but silent. I can hear only the quiet hum of the stones as they, too, guard over me. They, too, are laden with magic. Uncountable, closed-in time passes, and I make my plans.

I must wait a thousand years, or two thousand. No matter. I will take whatever punishment they have in store for me, suffer through it, and remember my purpose. Imprisoned, I'll meditate and silently keep my magic as fresh and alive as I possibly can. I'll think of new spells and deceptions. I'll be quiet and pliant and never reveal that I still have will, not until I'm certain I'll be victorious.

And then I will rise.

Frigga will be easy to bend, finally. I might be wise to start with her. I have watched her become more and more tired with Odin's illness, and with the hardships that our realm has met. My slow work is bearing fruit. She will want a relief. I will offer it. Peace. Or death. Eventually.

Odin, he will have to die. I will give him a quiet death, a painless one, because I am not a monster. I'm not ungrateful for the things he's done for my benefit. But for his lies, his deceit, his corruption he will have to die. I don't hold any illusion that I could make him submit to my will or see reason.

As for Thor--

Thor comes back. Before he says a word, I know him from his steps and the power he carries with him. Not having moved since he left, so I'm facing away from him. He comes closer.

I notice now, awakened from my thoughts, that the cuffs that bind my forearms are starting to numb my hands. My mouth is cramping from the position this vile contraption forces it in. I try to stretch my chin, as far as the steel and the magic allow it. That is not far. I tense my hands and relax them again.

It does not matter. I'm gathering my strength, alone in my thoughts. I can't be hurt by these simple devices, not truly. He can bind my tongue but he can't harness my mind.

"Brother," Thor says. His voice is solemn. It's as if he tries to make it true by saying it. But he has no power in his words, and they don't change me. I am silent and unmoving. His steps circle around me, I can see his boots in the corner of my downcast eyes, and then he is standing in front of me.

"Mother and father are resting," he says. "It has been a taxing day for us all." There is accusation in his voice.

Now, finally, I look in his eyes. His chin is up, and he tries to smile, but his eyes are grave. I hate him, in this moment, more than I have hated Odin all these years. I keep my face still.

"I'll forgive you, brother. You've done terrible things, and I do not know what poisonous whim led you to them. But you are my kin, and you will be forgiven in time. By me, if not by Father and Mother. When you have suffered your due punishment. And you deserve a severe one." With that, he takes a step closer to me.

I don't take my eyes off his. I cease trying to maintain a neutral face and let my hatred show in my eyes. He thinks himself my superior. He thinks to threaten me. To scold me, to punish me by showing his disappointment. He thinks me a child.

"How I wish", he continues, quieter now, "I could take this gag off you and hear you." Unwise. "Brother." Wrong. "I wish to know what drew you to it."

Still he comes a step closer, almost touching me now. "But I cannot listen to your lies one moment longer. You", and he pauses, "have made me lose my temper. I should punish you myself."

His lips are closer to me now, not quite touching the warm metal that separates our mouths. "You have made me go through a hell. You are making me do things I never wanted."

He is the liar and the usurper. The brute, the real reason we are here. The king of nothing, and never to be a real king. I can feel his breath on my cheek above my gag. I hate him. It's all just like before.

His body is too warm near me, not quite touching me. He has taken everything that belonged to me. Finally, his lips touch my cheek, warm in the darkness.

"We can get you better together, brother."

Still I hate. I hate that he is not closer. And then he is. His body is warm against mine, and I try to suppress a shiver. Soon enough, I fail, and take a pitiful, almost sobbing breath.

"Hush, brother. You are home." Now his hands reach around me. He's kissing my cheek, just over the muzzle, craning his neck a little to reach it.

There's a small amount of moisture on his lips, and I'm undone, I'm home, my knees are weak. My dear brother is pushing against me, his cheek against mine and then against the muzzle, and then he's reaching lower, and his lips find on my neck. He kisses me there, his tongue like a familiar snake touches me just above the collarbone. My chained hands refuse to do anything but stay on my sides. My breath quickens but I do not move. I ache to be touched by him, and my wish is fulfilled, now, every second.

My brother's hands travel to my hair, moving through it, and then along the back of my neck, across my back and to the hemline of my tunic. He tugs at it and breathes hard in my ear. "Take these off. Now." His voice is now quiet, almost a whisper. Can he take this from me? Can he demand these things?

"You are home", he murmurs. He can. I let go of the clothing. I'm naked against his linen and leather. Grey and red, this I know even if I can't see colours in the dark. I'm hard, and I would beg, except I have no words. He breathes against my neck and then circles me, hands never letting go of me.

"I will not let you go astray again." He stands behind me and breathes hard on the back of my neck. I need him.

Still holding me tight against him with one hand, he undoes his cape with the other and lets it fall on the floor. He undoes the straps on his shirt, then the waistband of his trousers. My brother is close to me, he keeps me warm, my big brother. And he shrugs his clothes off and is as naked as I am. Except bigger, more substantial.

He presses against me. He is as hard as I am. Except bigger.

"I'll take care of you." His voice is hoarse now. "Never let you go. Never let you go from me." 

He spits in his hand. I hear it. I feel the rising and falling of his chest against my back. He reaches his hand down, rubs his cock, and I'm now afraid. Can he take this from me, now, when I cannot say no? His cock pushes between my cheeks, slippery. I stay still, frozen.

"Mine", he breathes, "My brother." He can. He pushes hard against me, and at first the head of his cock doesn't find my hole. But then he does, and he shoves forward, and with a flash of agony, he slips inside me. I am one with my brother, finally. The head of his cock stretches me too much, too open. He stays still for a moment, and my insides throb with pain.

Don't move yet, please don't move yet, I would say. My body goes tense, and I pant through my nose. He doesn't feel this or doesn't care, and in a moment, he pushes in harder. It hurts so much that I cannot breathe, and I now wish I had my mouth to use not for speaking but for taking in air. This is too soon. It's been too long since the last time. He moves still further in, and the pain engulfs me.

Then he is in all the way. I take short gasps through my nose, trying to remember how to breathe.

And even through this agony I feel my cock pulsating in lust. And even when he hurts me still, by resting inside me completely, I don't want anything more than to have him inside me, to be completely possessed by him. And he knows this. He knows.

Brother, oh my dear brother starts fucking me slowly. Finally, he is gentle, and he rocks inside me, holding my hips, not too tightly. He makes a low murmuring sound and leans his head on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his face, eyes closed, all closed to the world, even to me. He fucks me but he does not even see me.

I close my eyes, in turn. I love him and I want more, more. I can come like this. From his fucking me.

His mouth, again, is on my shoulder. He licks it, open-mouthed, slow, as if deep in thought, as he pushes inside me. One of his hands grabs my neck, to hold me closer. Then I feel his teeth, he bites me, and he doesn't let go. The pain that his penetration caused me is almost gone, but the pain of his biting me increases, dull and insistent, as his teeth close on me. His mouth grips me tighter, tighter still, and here I would normally say Brother, stop it now. But I can't say it, and he doesn't care, and it hurts like hell now. There is no sensation of my cock, of his cock, of his skin or hands any more, there's just my shoulder, and my shoulder's burning, throbbing, on fire. The pain is filling my head completely.

"Mmmmmmm", I cry, the only thing I'm able to say.

He lets go, and soon, the pain turns duller, softer again. I remember how to breathe, and take in as much air as I can. He's still fucking me, faster now, breathing hard. One of his hands is gripping my hips and the other my neck, unnecessarily hard, and there's a strange cool sensation on one side of my chest, below where he bit me. My shoulder throbs with every heartbeat. I open my eyes and glance at my own chest, and in the darkness against my skin there is something dark running down me. I'm bleeding.

I'm bleeding, and I'm harder than before, and I love my brother who has given me everything after taking everything away. I never want him to stop. He has to come in deeper. I'm bleeding because he can do what he wants with me, and he always has. He pumps inside me hard, breathing heavily in my ear. He hits my shoulder with his chin, coarse with stubble, and pain radiates away from the wound all over my body, all the way down to my cock.

He grasps my cock with his hands and pumps it a few time and his chin rubs at my wound and then I'm coming hard. Brother, I will never want anyone else, anything else than you. Brother.

His hand is sticky and cooling fast when he takes it off my cock. Thor's limp cock slips out of me. He takes a step back, leaving me sweaty and cool. I realise I don't hate just him, I hate myself for all that he does. He puts one palm against my back, keeping it there.

My breath has slowed down and my cock, too, has gone limp and small. I'm cold. Thor's hand leaves me. I don't want it back.

"We will reform you", he mumbles.

Never.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the very talented Soltian's [fan art](http://soltianxxx.tumblr.com/post/23096867040/it-is-my-deep-desire-that-every-thor-loki). (Explicit!)


End file.
